


Shield Me

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Series: Whumptober 2019 [4]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Damian is trying his best, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Prompt: Human Shield, Tim is a good big brother, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 14:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20893568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: “Boys,”Father growls over the comms.“Can you please save the bickering for when you’re not in the middle of a battle?”“Givin’ me a headache,”Hood agrees from...wherever he is. The family long since stopped paying attention whenever he hacked his way into their frequency.Drake grunts as he sends one of Black Mask’s goons to the ground. “It was a four-thousand-dollar computer!”





	Shield Me

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4: Human Shield

_“Boys,”_ Father growls over the comms. _“Can you please save the bickering for when you’re not in the middle of a battle?” _  
  
_“Givin’ me a headache,”_ Hood agrees from...wherever he is. The family long since stopped paying attention whenever he hacked his way into their frequency.   
  
Drake grunts as he sends one of Black Mask’s goons to the ground. “It was a four-thousand-dollar computer!”  
  
Damian clicks his tongue. “You’re the ward of a billionaire. Buy a new one.”   
  
“I had _weeks_ of work saved on that thing! And I’m actually the _son _of a billionaire, same as you.”   
  
_“Do secret identities mean nothing to you?” _Father says, more exhausted than usual.   
  
“You’re being a baby about this,” Damian says. He throws a shuriken and it hits one of the men in the arm, which he takes as an opportunity to slam the man’s head into a telephone pole.   
  
“_I’m _the baby?” Drake says. “Take a look in the mirror once in a while, gremlin from the green lagoon. And get to smashing that piggy bank while you’re at it, because you’re buying me a new laptop.”   
  
“It’s not my fault you left it out! You should learn to be more responsible with your stuff.”   
  
“And _you _should learn not to be such an entitled _prick_ all the time,” Drake retorts, slamming his bo staff against a goon’s leg with a crack.   
  
Damian opens his mouth for a particularly scathing remark, but he’s so focused on Drake that he doesn’t realize he’s distracted. Sloppy. It’s what makes him unable to see the fist coming for him until it is already striking the center of his face, making stars burst behind his eyelids.   
  
Damian staggers back, thick blood pouring over his lips. He cups his nose with one hand, glaring daggers at the man who hit him, but the anger is snuffed out once he sees the gun.   
  
Drake must catch sight of it too, because there’s a sharp intake of breath to Damian’s right. He pays no attention and runs through a dozen evasion tactics in the span of a second. None of them will be fast enough—not with the man already pulling back the safety and grinning at him with yellow teeth.   
  
Faster than even Damian can comprehend, several things happen at once:  
  
A gunshot explodes, making Damian’s ears ring.   
  
A large red and black shape moves in front of Damian, blocking the shot before he himself can blink.  
  
Drake’s voice emits a sharp grunt and he falls to the ground, leaving Damian staring wide-eyed when he realizes what just happened.   
  
He sets his gaze on the shooter, who looks even more surprised than he is, but certainly not upset about it. He raises his hand to fire off another shot, but that’s when Damian’s body catches up to speed and he takes out another shuriken, throwing it and watching it sink into the meat of the man’s shoulder.   
  
The man shouts and drops the gun before turning tail and running, and Damian jumps over Red Robin’s body to pursue.   
  
_“Robin! What happened?” _Father demands.   
  
_Drake. _That’s right, he probably needs help. And as much as Damian wants to, he can’t just leave him to bleed out.  
  
Damian watches the man get further away as he himself stays cemented in place, torn between catching the man and going back to Drake. Drake, who took a bullet for him like a complete fool. Gritting his teeth, Damian clenches his fists and turns, letting the man escape. He’ll catch him later.   
  
Drake is on the ground, pressing a hand against a spot on his abdomen that is already soaked through with blood. It gushes between his fingers and pools on the ground, and Damian know this can’t be good.   
  
His hand does _not _shake as he presses a finger to the piece in his ear. “Red Robin is down. GSW to the chest. We need an evac now.”  
  
_“On my way,” _Batman says in that deep-throated growl of his.   
  
Stupid Drake is sucking in quick breaths, groaning every time his chest expands. His skin is ashen beneath the mask, and his eyes keep fluttering closed. Damian slaps him. “Hey. Stay awake,” he orders.   
  
Tim nods sluggishly, his next breath coming out as a wheeze. But a moment later his hands fall limp to his sides and a fountain of blood rushes out, so Damian presses his own hands against the wound, keeping pressure.   
  
Tim whimpers and tries to squirm away from the pain, but Damian doesn’t let up.   
  
_Idiot, idiot, idiot—_  
  
When Tim’s eyes fall closed again, Damian presses his palm into the wound. Hard. Trying to jolt him back to consciousness. “I said stay _awake, _you moron.” Tim makes a whining noise in the back of his throat, but his eyes don’t open.   
  
Damian hisses, his gut curling at the image of so much blood, so little life, and _they were arguing just a few minutes ago_—   
  
“Damn you, Drake.”   
  
  


* * *

  
  
The surgery took hours, but Alfred managed to remove the bullet and repair the wound. How Drake got lucky enough to throw himself in front of a gun and not nick a single organ, Damian will never know. Lucky bastard.    
  
Drake’s face is still pale, his hair a puddle of ink in contrast with the white sheets surrounding his body. He’s been asleep under the sedation for hours. Grayson sat with him earlier, while Damian didn’t move from his spot against the wall.    
  
“He saved your life, you know,” Grayson said while he smoothed back Drake’s hair.    
  
Damian’s arms were crossed. “I could have saved myself if he hadn’t gotten in the way.”    
  
“Probably,” Grayson agreed. “But he still did it. I think that’s earned him at least an apology, don’t you think?”    
  
“For stepping on his precious flea market computer? Please.”    
  
Dick left ten minutes ago, squeezing Tim’s hand and dropping a kiss on the top of Damian’s head as he walked out, so only Damian remains in the quiet med bay. And the unconscious moron, of course. Can’t forget him.    
  
Damian sits in the chair beside Drake’s bed, for the sole reason of it being more comfortable than standing against the wall for hours. Alfred the cat came over earlier and now sleeps in Damian’s lap, purring while he strokes his back.    
  
Damian’s eyes lie on Drake—stupid, stupid Drake. Why would he bother saving Damian? He never cared about Damian enough to risk his  _ own _ life for the small chance of saving his. It makes no sense.    
  
_ And  _ you  _ should learn not to be an entitled  _ prick  _ all the time.  _   
  
Idiot.    
  
After a moment Damian stands, picking up Alfred as he does so. He goes to the bed and places Alfred down beside Drake, where the cat sniffs only a minor protest before curling up against the warm body and resuming his purring.    
  
Damian takes a step back, arms crossed. “Consider us even, Drake.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Damian no, you can't just let people cuddle your pets this is not how to solve your problems
> 
> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


End file.
